


where there is love there is life

by crooked



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Enjolras Has Feelings, M/M, One-Sided Enjolras/Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:12:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's still beauty to be found in this world, Enjolras discovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	where there is love there is life

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the tags on one of [dancetaire](http://dancetaire.tumblr.com/)'s non-fandom posts. the title is a quote by Mahatma Gandhi.

Sometimes they linger after meetings, and the wine flows and music plays and idle chatter that has nothing to do with revolution fills the air. It's just them being _them_ — young students in what is thought to be the prime of their lives. Enjolras is usually reserved during such occasions, content to sip a decent Merlot and watch his friends. He likes to see them without their brows furrowed with passion and fury, hear their voices laced with laughter rather than anger.

This night, he's transfixed by Jehan and Courfeyrac in particular. They're as removed from the scene as he is, though for a different reason. He spies them off to one corner, and immediately he sees how it looks as though they've forgotten about the rest of them, the rest of the world. Their palms are pressed together, fingers entwined and clasped tight, and Courfeyrac has just leaned in to rest his forehead against Jehan's. Enjolras can see the soft blush on the apples of his cheeks from across the room, but he can also see the softer smile that curves his lips. The one on Courfeyrac's face matches it.

They're moving in a slow circle, slower even than the tempo of the music would dictate. But it doesn't matter to either them, clearly. Jehan's eyes have fluttered shut and Courfeyrac's remain open, as if he can't bear the thought of missing a single second of the sight before him. Enjolras marvels at it all, at how happy they seem to not be concerned with anything but the press of hands and foreheads and the nearness of each other. At how they were both moments ago engaged in a discussion about the perceived hopeless of the future of France and her people unless real, tangible change comes about, and yet now it looks as though they haven't a care in the world.

Enjolras watches them for longer than he realizes, even smiling along when Courfeyrac murmurs something he can't hear to Jehan and they both dissolve into quiet laughter. Jehan and Courfeyrac are simply beautiful to watch in that moment, so in love with each other and so unafraid to show the world. He almost could've envied them for it, if it didn't make him love his two friends even more. He finishes his glass of wine and has no reason to keep lingering, though he doesn't really want to go.

But he gets up and pulls his coat on, his eyes darting back to Courfeyrac and Jehan to see if they notice. They don't. The world keeps moving around them, people intermittently coming and going, but neither of them take their attention off the other. He slips out into the night without saying goodbye, not wanting to disturb the air around them, to intrude upon the small pocket of happiness they've carved out for themselves.

Enjolras' heart feels lighter than it has in some time, if he's honest with himself, for having sat there and watched his friends. It gives him a kind of hope that they can still find beauty in the world, find love with one another, when so much around them gives way to nothing but hopelessness and despair. It makes him wonder if it's possible to have that himself, to not lose sight of the cause the way he's always feared such a distraction would lead to. Perhaps Jehan's intrepid nature is rooted in that, Courfeyrac's dedication to the revolution tied to the fact that they have a more personal reason to want to see a better tomorrow.

When Enjolras lays his head on his pillow that night, his thoughts have strayed: to unruly, tousled dark curls; to blue eyes that are always ringed with shadows and filled with a sorrow that is never quite as expertly masked as the other man thinks. But he's not just thinking about Grantaire; he's _longing_ for him. It startles Enjolras, frankly, because it hits him as suddenly as lightning strikes. Grantaire is impossible and argumentative, and yet when Enjolras thinks about what Courf and Jehan have, he can't imagine himself having it with anyone but him. Which is ridiculous because Grantaire has only ever made it a point to go out of his way to contradict him and deconstruct his points every chance he gets. That doesn't exactly constitute the keys to a successful relationship. As far as Enjolras knows, Grantaire hasn't expressed any interest in him beyond that much. Not that anyone has ever accused Enjolras of being an expert in noticing such things.

He barely sleeps that night and when he does, it's filled with dreams of Grantaire - pressing close to him, grasping his hands, making him smile in a way Enjolras has never seen him smile before. He wakes and the thoughts don't go away, haunting his daylight hours like a ghost. Enjolras remembers why he's sworn off love, foolish and distracting thing that it is. But then he remembers how he felt in those few moments just after rising, his conscious self still half-steeped in his dreams and feeling a warmth travel across his chest at the thought of Grantaire. But more importantly, he recalls the hollowness that followed when he realized that his reality was a cold, empty space beside him in bed.

And maybe it's still a huge distraction and probably a very bad idea, but if he can experience a fraction of that beautiful moment he witnessed between Courfeyrac and Jehan, it doesn't seem quite as foolish.


End file.
